


Hera Hung

by sparklight



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Magical Sleep, Mentioned Hercules | Heracles (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: Hera has done many things to Alcides over the years. Ever since his labours in penance for the murders he committed during the madness she afflicted him with has she sent troubles, but she has never managed to kill him.This time, she might.But if she's to have the chance to do that, Alcides' father will need to be out of the way. How do you contain a god like Zeus, when you've already used your trump card years ago, during a plot that ultimately didn't work out?
Relationships: Ganymede/Zeus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hera/Zeus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Hypnos Led Astray

**Author's Note:**

> Have a cover art for this fic, [found over here](https://sparklight.dreamwidth.org/10523.html#cutid2)!

If there were any who ever suffered the most of Hera's offended rage for her husband's indiscretions and being the result of such affairs, it was Dionysos and Alcides. There were reasons for that, of course. 

Hera was still brought to a heart-quivering, vulnerable chill she'd never admit to when thinking of that months' long love affair Zeus had carried on with Semele. Aside from Ganymede, who couldn't be counted among these particular escapades as little as she liked to admit it, Semele was the one among mortal women and nymphs and immortal goddesses who'd caught Zeus' interest the longest. That he now seemed to have little interest in Thyone, within such easy reach as the formerly mortal woman now was, was sour relief. He was still fond of her, she knew, just no longer breathlessly in love - the mortal death Semele had suffered at the hands of Zeus' immortal divinity being bared to her had clearly burned something out.

It was what kept both Thyone and Dionysos safe from any further antagonism, as relentless as it'd originally been. She was still little pleased by either of their presence on Olympos, but pursuing them now that they were irrevocably here served her little.

That left Alcides to suffer her anger; Zeus' shining mortal son, great-grandson of his darling Perseus.

It was infuriating how he had endured everything she'd thrown at him so far. Worse, he had overcome, had excelled, through it all. It shouldn't matter, truly - as doted-on as Alcides was, half of that was Zeus being forced to tend to him in response to Hera's fury. That didn't take away from the fact that, however forcibly induced by Eros his attraction to Alcmene had been, Zeus had then turned right around and owned it. He’d stretched that incident out into not just one night, but three days of complete darkness. Rarely did he make such effort, and though Semele had far trumped that when she entered the picture afterwards, that had been the original needle in her heart when it came to Alcides. Worse, while Alcmene might have been left behind to her loving husband, Alcides had caught her husband's continued attention like rarely happened.

That alone would have been enough to sharpen her attention on the unfortunate Alcides, but what truly had buried her acrimony deep and left it to grow was something Zeus hadn't had a hand in, for all that he helped create that hateful man. Hera still couldn't believe that Athena really had brought the infant Alcides to her and pretended innocence of who he was, and she left to ache for an unfortunately abandoned baby had given him sustenance with her own body--- 

Hera flushed, teeth gritted and fingers squeezing tight around the kantharos she'd been sipping from. She had to put the cup away so she wouldn't break it, and ended up staring down at the reflective gold surface of her tabletop, polished to shining. In it, the only thing visible of her heated rage was the tense furrow between her brows and the stiff angle at the corners of her mouth. It almost made her look completely unbothered, which was so very far from the truth it was laughable. 

And did she not have a right to be indignant about this? 

At least the only other son so well-loved - more than that, deeply beloved and favoured - was Apollo, divine next to a small number of children, and not yet another mortal child.

That was a small consolation considering Apollo was not _her_ son, and her only son with Zeus was Ares. Whatever she felt about Ares mattered little when it came to what Zeus felt about their troublesome son, which only highlighted how much Zeus favoured the others. Not all of them, of course, but it should have been Ares, no matter what. Hera knew very well Ares wasn’t suitable to stand in the metaphysical place Apollo did, however. His positive qualities might make him a good father, but there was more than that required for where both Apollo and Zeus were in the order of the sphere.

Shoving off from the bench built into the wall and scattering a few of the pillows on it to the floor as she strode off, Hera stopped in front of one of the windows, resting against the windowsill. The view was vast and serene, allowing an uninterrupted vista of the sky and rolling mountains below thanks to how the palace's royal apartments were placed, but it did little to soothe her. 

How _was_ that aggravating, undeserving favourite doing, anyway? 

She knew Alcides wasn't dead, for despite that time could sometimes flee unnoticed away from those born as Deathless, Hera was currently caught up in a knot of being all too aware how much, or little, time was passing, exactly because Alcides was still alive. It'd been a while since she actively had a hand in Alcides' troubles since his labours had been over since several years hence. Most of his hardships since then were chosen by himself, and it was remarkable what that man got himself into, all without her interference.

Unfortunately, he always came through it unscathed. He might not often need it, but when he did, Zeus keeping a distant eye on him kept him well-protected.

Frowning, Hera focused away from what she was looking at, and the stunning view of Olympos and its surrounding mountains fell away for another view, no more favoured than Alcides himself. Troy, smoke rising in several dark, scattered plumes in a path along the wall, to the main gate and up to the citadel hill and the palace placed like a jewel in the middle of a crown at the top. Briefly, it soothed Hera to imagine that town, so deeply loved by her husband and so deeply tied up in another of his infidelities, suffering destruction. Not that she necessarily thrived on spiting Zeus in everything and hating all he loved, but Troy was special. Always had been, from the first footstep Dardanos had taken on future Trojan land, shining and beautiful, just barely mortal. On top of that Troy was connected to one of Zeus’ very few heart-felt loves.

She was going to lose concentration like this. 

Easing up on the grinding tension in her jaw, Hera spread her awareness out, searching and half wondering if she'd been mistaken regarding Alcides' presence and instead animosity towards Troy and its royal house had unknowingly led her to see a moment of blessed darkness for them. But no. Alcides was down on the beach a distance from the city, foreign ships crowding both the beach and the harbour, and Hera remembered what this was about.

Alcides getting revenge for his being deprived of his promised rewards for assisting Laomedon in getting rid of Poseidon's little temper tantrum sea monster. 

Not that Poseidon hadn't deserved to be angry over it, the way Laomedon had behaved towards him and Apollo. She'd just put all that out of her mind, preferring not to think about the failed uprising and its consequences. Back then, Alcides had been unable to come against Laomedon in force, and Hera, when she'd noticed Alcides' preparing his fleet a couple weeks ago, had, after a moment's temptation, decided to not put her nose into that. It'd have been too obvious, if she had. Now, though, with Alcides having sacked Troy and clearly being about to set himself towards home, successful and flush with loot, vulnerable out there at sea, then maybe...

Zeus would notice, however.

Surely he would, since she was certain he'd kept his hand over Troy to ensure that while Alcides got his deserved revenge he would not do away with the town or its royal family completely. Further, he would wish for Alcides to come home with all the wealth and honour he had amassed from this escapade, so he would hardly drop the man from his attention as soon as he was away from Troy.

Suppressing a frustrated sigh, Hera pushed away from the window and turned away from the view of Troy. She paused there, though, one hand still resting on the windowsill. 

Her husband would surely notice, unless he was distracted. Pursing her lips in thought, Hera considered the possible actions open to her. Unfortunately he would certainly be all wrapped up in the boy at the moment, who was probably distraught over the attack on Troy, so swanning in there to seduce him no matter how finely she dressed herself, was unlikely to succeed. Besides, she needed to be able to leave him, and if he noticed she was gone...

No, she needed some other manner of distraction. Something Zeus would be hard-pressed to notice as a distraction or attack at first, something which would give her the time she needed to well and truly aim more solid and direct retribution on Alcides than she had so far. But what? Zeus was not easily fooled, for as easily as she could lie to him. Most manner of potions or magics would either take too long to make or procure and be too easily noticed and fought off, as well. It needed to be something subtle. Something... natural.

The idea was so obvious, it was a little ridiculous.

Pleased, Hera left her rooms in search of Iris. She could simply have summoned her, of course, but such things might stir questions. She needed to be circumspect. As it happened Hera found her husband, his cupbearer, and their youngest daughter before she found Iris, and Hera frowned as she passed the partially open door, then paused. 

Backtracking two steps, she lingered in the doorway for a moment, just watching the scene. Hebe was perched on a chair, lyre in her lap. The silver-liquid fall of music from the strings was accompanied by a tympanum Ganymede was wielding with relaxed skill, and both of their voices wound around each other, complimented in skill as well as the pitches of song. Ganymede was sitting on the edge of the couch Zeus was lounging on, but for all of the physical closeness, in that moment it seemed more a happenstance than intent of intimacy, for Ganymede and Hebe were focused on each other and their music. They were creating it with such lovely care anyone would have taken a moment to pause for it, and Zeus was clearly intent on doing just that and nothing more. In this moment, who the two were that were singing and where they were sitting mattered little.

If this really was all it was, Hera would have been more than pleased for Ganymede's presence on Olympos. It wasn't. There was little to nothing she could do about it, however, after that one attempt she’d had, and since there were things she could far more certainly do something about, Hera was willing to turn her eye away, for now.

Still, she didn’t barge in immediately, for as much as she wished to not lose her opportunity. The song finally wound down and the singers took a breath, smiling widely at each other in flushed pleasure for their accomplishment. Hera, allowing herself a little smile, drummed her fingers against the door and stepped into the doorway.

"Hebe? I am taking a ride. Come help me with the chariot." Hera smiled at her daughter, who let out the tiniest of sighs and shot Ganymede a good-natured little grimace but did put her lyre aside and stood up. Hera, meanwhile, glanced to the couch, past Ganymede's gaze turned away from her, and met Zeus’ gaze instead. Tipped her head, and her husband cracked a small, if tightly measured, smile. Alcides' attack on Troy really was weighing on him, then. It meant he was distracted, so she couldn't say she minded. Or cared otherwise, given the city. Had it been any other one, she would've had sympathy for his pain and wished to soothe it.

"It's a good day for it," Zeus said, and Hera's smile widened - it was even mostly honest, for it was indeed a perfect day for a chariot ride, and the possibility of one had been on her mind earlier. It had just been rudely shoved from her thoughts at the sight of Dionysos and Ariadne flying past on a chariot, quite spoiling her beautiful view no matter how sweet a couple they made. From there her mood had merely plummeted, but perhaps it would, ultimately, bring some sweet results.

"A perfect day for it, and I wish to race the clouds." Sometimes, that would have been an invitation, or even a flirtation. Today it was neither, and Zeus seemed little inclined to get up and see if he could convince her otherwise. Still, as he looked over towards the wall nearest to the outside even when this room had no windows, he smiled faintly.

"You will find the winds well suited for it."

If only this was all there was, this rather domestic scene and Zeus giving her perfect winds to chase clouds with even when he didn't come with her. But no, there was that youth sitting right there on the couch, and there was Alcides having sacked one of Zeus' favourite cities, a favourite son taking justified revenge against a city and family most favoured... such a dilemma. Not for Hera, though, and she merely smiled, pleased for several reasons. Dropping an arm around Hebe's shoulders as her daughter came up beside her, Hera led them both away.

"One of the smallest chariots, then?" Hebe asked as she looked up at her mother. She was apparently not particularly displeased at being pulled away from her entertainment despite the moment of exaggerated reluctance before, and Hera nodded.

"Just so. Two horses will be plenty for today."

There was one thing she needed done before they went to the stable, but taking the corridors at a stroll and further not using the most expedient path through the palace didn't allow Hera to find Iris on the way out. She was starting to wonder if she'd have to fabricate some quick errand for Hebe and then send her on to the stables before her as an excuse to give herself time to find the messenger goddess. 

As they walked through the archways and columns that made up the main gate, however, there her confidante was. Chance was clearly smiling on her.

"Go choose the horses I should yoke to my chariot," Hera said, gesturing down the propylaia as Hebe looked up at her, a silent question writ large in her light brown eyes. "Themis came out behind us, I need to talk to her for a moment."

Hebe shrugged and continued on while Hera retreaded her steps. She didn't miss the look her daughter shot over her shoulder, but it was curious, not suspicious, and that was fine. Luckily Hebe had missed who'd come out of one the doors that led deeper into the palace, and the lie used was the sort that was unremarkable. Hebe would have little cause to seek Themis out to ask her what Hera had wanted to talk to her about since she had little involvement or, indeed, interest in the politics of Olympos and the sphere attached to it.

"Iris!" Hera called quietly across the empty courtyard, waving the Titan goddess over. " _There_ you are."

"My lady? Did you need me for something?" Iris, between the moment of confused address and asking the queen of Olympos what she might want, had turned into wearing a blank look of earnest inquiry. In contrast, her eyes were sharply bright, and she stepped a little closer still and leaned in towards Hera as she spoke. Hera didn't smile, but the touch to Iris' elbow conveyed her warm pleasure. She could always trust Iris to understand the finer nuance of a situation even before she'd said a word of what it was, bless her.

"Go to Hypnos, summon him to me. Tell him I will meet him as soon as possible at his haunt on Lemnos and that he's for no possible reason to come here to Olympos to ask for me." Hera arched her eyebrows, her voice pitched soft and low since they were after all standing out on the court in full view of all. It wouldn't do if someone passing heard any of what she’d said. Not that Hera would expect her plans to be so easily figured from so little, and there was even less reason to go to Zeus with such information. 

She would rather be careful than deprived of this chance, however.

"Of course, my lady. He will have your summons as quickly as I am able to deliver it." Iris tipped her head in acquiescence, asking no questions and needing no further urging. Hera allowed herself a smile now and squeezed Iris' elbow before she let go.

"Not even Hermes could be quicker, and you, storm-footed Iris, was before him besides."

Pleased, and now feeling the press of her desire to not miss this opportunity even more, Hera turned around on a sharp heel and strode down through the gate. Then the stairs were taken just as quickly, and it didn’t take long before she could see the stables. 

She felt it when Iris passed her, a breath of blossom-scented air briefly coloured multi-hued before there was no proof the goddess had been there at all. Good. Now Hypnos should be waiting for her when she arrived at Lemnos, which wouldn’t just save time but make all of them less conspicuous. Wasting no time, Hera reached the stables, cast in partial shadow by the towering walls nearby. She found Hebe standing with two horses by the light chariot a young satyr was just attaching the wheels to.

"What do you think, Mom?" Hebe asked brightly as she held up the reins of her chosen horses in offering, and though it truly didn't matter, Hera took a moment to look them over. Well, right now it didn't matter, for normally Hera would certainly have considered the nature of her yoke-beasts and if they suited for her and what she wanted them for. Regardless, even if she didn't care, they were gleaming, silver-hoofed things with shimmering bronze manes and bright eyes, eager and strong.

"As if you'd choose terrible racing horses for me, sweetest Hebe," Hera said with an arched eyebrow, and Hebe giggled and got her chosen horses positioned by the yoke and quickly strapped to it. Giving the nearest one a last pat to its velvety nose, Hebe shot her mother a smile as she went to leave, passing the chariot while Hera got up into it.

"Have fun! It really is a nice day for flying, isn't it?" Hebe looked up at the sky above them, an endless, perfect blue with puffy little clouds racing past; there was strong wind playing up there, but here on the ground, no matter how high up they were, there was only the sweetest of soft breezes. Chuckling, Hera leaned down to kiss Hebe's cheek.

"Thank you, darling."

Taking the reins in one hand and the whip in the other, Hera snapped the horses into leaping gallop from a standstill and they were in the air after only two steps. She didn’t bother with a graceful ascent, rather went steeply up in the air right in front of the gates as they started to open for her, and Hera passed through a crack in the gates that was only just wide enough to let her pass.

The wind tore at her hair and veil, pinned down for the flight, tore at the horses' manes and tails, whipping them about. If this really was what she'd been intending to do, Hera would have thrown herself into it with laughing delight, no worry for dignity out here, alone as she was. 

Far below and still distant from her, outside the coast of Troy, Alcides was leaving the city, yet another success put behind him. If he was any other of Zeus’ aggravating bastard offspring, Hera might have blessed them for the pain aimed at Troy and its royal house, the damage left behind. But it was Alcides, and Hera felt not the least bit of fondness for or even acceptance of his existence, which had partially come at her own expense.

Leather creaked in protest from her tightening grip and the horses nickered, ears flicking nervously back and forth. Reining herself in instead of her horses, Hera took a measured breath and let it out, then focused on the flight.

She would deal with Alcides soon. Another chance, and maybe this one would stick. Maybe this one would _kill_. 

Right now she had a chariot flight to direct, and Lemnos... there it was. Circling the island once, Hera took her chariot down towards the north-western part. There, among the mountain meadows and cliffs of the single large mountain Lemnos possessed, Hypnos had a well-appointed cave for when he didn't feel like withdrawing all the way to his home next to his mother's haunt in the Underworld. The cave's opening was a half-shielded, diagonal slash into the mountainside, a narrow crack into the rock like an inverse lightning-strike, dark against light. Hypnos could just barely be seen among the shadows, and Hera, satisfied, continued onwards to find a landing spot.

Bringing her horses to a stop at the closest flat surface that was large enough, Hera stepped off the chariot and smoothed herself out, though there was little need of such care even after the windy ride she'd just had. She could wait here - she knew Hypnos had seen her - but she was also asking for a favour. A favour that was both small as well as incredibly weighty, and though she wasn't a suppliant and she had the right of authority to request Hypnos' assistance, it would not hurt to be more polite than she strictly needed to be. So Hera left her chariot behind after making sure the reins were tied so that the horses couldn't wander off and took herself upwards, towards the cave. She met Hypnos partway, the two of them standing on a narrow animal-track next to a rocky outcropping thrust out over the view of the ocean below.

"Queen Hera, daughter of Kronos and Rhea," Hypnos tipped his head in greeting, his four wings spreading out with him to mimic the gesture, and Hera nodded in return. "What can I help you with?"

Hypnos' eyes were dark, but also hard to see. Unlike Hermes, who kept his wings fluttering wide about his head, Hypnos' wings most often curved in to cover his face. It was an annoyance that made him seem a lot less attentive than he presumably was of whoever was talking to him. If he was so desirous of hiding from others’ gazes, couldn't he simply keep his wings at the sides of his head and let the charming curls falling into his eyes and half covering his forehead hide him? Not even Thanatos, prone as he was to using his long, straight hair as protection against the world, hid his face as much as Hypnos did. From what little Hera could see, though, Hypnos seemed curious. Hopefully he would remain so when he found out what she wanted - or at least indulgent. He would do better to obey her than deny her, after all.

"Would you like the opportunity to show your mastery over gods as well as men, gentle conqueror of all?" Hera arched her brows, leaning forward just a shade, giving an illusion of intimacy. She was pleased to see Hypnos land with a little thump onto the grass, properly grounded instead of floating in the air. He cocked his head, and though the wings on his head didn't move out of the way, or stop moving at all for that matter, she could see the gleam of dark, intent eyes behind the feathers. "My husband has not slept, so distracted by Alcides' assault on one of his most favoured cities. Perhaps you should remind him even the Deathless Ones need to enter your domain, if only for a brief little while."

The wings slowly parted, and Hypnos' milk-sweet, youthful face stared up at Hera, his eyes wide, then narrowing. The dark curls framing his face swayed slightly in the faint breeze caused by the wings still fluttering at the sides of his head. For all that Hypnos seemed intrigued, the look in his eyes was sharp.

"I would not normally force Father Zeus' acquaintance with me, my lady. The king enters at his own desire, and leaves the same way. I doubt he will be pleased, if I come barging in. He uses his time as he pleases, and for us it _is_ more a question of pleasure than need, but you know this, venerable daughter of Kronos."

She did, yes. Which was the reason for why, even if Zeus really _hadn't_ been taking any sleep at all for days or weeks, that the issue had to be forced. It was an elegant solution she hadn’t even considered for that fiasco with Athena and the others, for she’d needed Zeus awake. Besides, Hera was doubtful Hypnos would’ve gone along with that, compared to this. Even if she was, of course, presenting it in a light more favourable. Now, though, with little recourse since Zeus had taken the remains of the net after he was freed and tying him up would garner immediate resistance and an understanding that something was wrong, Hypnos’ help would be perfect. 

Besides, Zeus would surely be far more displeased at being tied down than what this meant. That would’ve been her own opinion, and she knew he shared her feelings about restraint.

"It need not be for long, painless Hypnos, who gives sweet respite to all. A couple hours at the most, to give him rest from his concerns. I should think he deserves it, now that Alcides is leaving Troy."

Hypnos blinked, pursing his lips. "Alcides has left? Then..."

He frowned, looking from Hera to the cave, then up at the sky. Hera was deeply tempted to speak again, to urge him into his decision, one that should be favourable to her. She reined herself in much like an experienced charioteer kept his hands steady on the reins to hold back his great, fiery horses until it was time to let them run free at the reins and kept silent. Waited.

"I would not be interrupting anything he might wish to keep an eye on."

Hera did not smile, did not let even the barest glimmer of the rising possibility of triumph to be felt yet, even less be visible anywhere on her face as she nodded. "Indeed you wouldn't, and your assistance would be a great favour to me. We might often be at odds, but my heart aches for my husband when he hurts himself like this."

It wasn't, entirely, a lie. There were times she really did think he hurt more for what he had to do than he should, knowing it was necessary it be done. This just wasn't one of those times.

"Your will be done then, Queen Hera." Hypnos rose up from the ground again, until he was hovering face to face with her. The fluttering of his wings were also once again mostly obscuring his face aside from bare flashes of pale skin and dark eyes. "I will go immediately."

"Thank you, Hypnos."

Now, Hera smiled, sweetly benign, and as Hypnos shot away, leaving a vague scent of blooming poppies behind, that smile widened into toothy success. She didn't tarry as she turned and walked back to her chariot, untying the reins from the craggy outcropping she'd tied them to. She also, most certainly, didn't turn the horses back towards Olympos as they rose back into the air. Instead she turned east, towards the coast of the Troad, and let the horses run hard until she reigned them in over open water. 

In the distance, the mainland was a soft dream disappearing into the waver of hot air and sunlight. Below her, ships, going westward. Hera’s fingers itched to darken the skies, to call the winds and let Zeus' hounds play in them as they whipped the sails to shreds and turned the oars to splinters. To call rain, and let it drown the decks of the ships below, whip the waves high to crush the planks.

Not yet.

Not until...

"My lady," Iris said as she flickered into view with a shimmering trail of iridescence around her, "you should know Hypnos has entered the halls of Olympos."

Hera glanced to Iris, then down to the surface of the sea below, her eyes alight. "Excellent. Thank you, Iris."

The light spread to Hera’s head and shoulders, her hair and clothes lifting in the swirl of rising power. Hera only paused long enough to draw a veil of shimmering hot air and misdirection around herself and the chariot while Iris went back to Olympos, then looked down. 

Around her, the skies turned blue-black. A smell of charged air and wetness came in, and the whistle of rising wind was accompanied by the confused, alarmed cries from the men in the ships below.


	2. Uneasy Rests the Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganymede and Zeus face the results of Alcides' assault on Troy, and then an unexpected nap is had. Loving sleep as he does, and needing more of it than any of the Deathless Ones, Ganymede has only very rarely been able to find Zeus asleep while he himself is awake. The far more concerning thing is that Zeus _just won't wake up_.

The door closed behind mother and daughter, and in the silence left behind Ganymede closed his eyes. Worried his bottom lip and tried to keep a light grip on the drum, but the zills all around its sides rustled, filling the room with a metallic shiver. It well matched the one that quivered right under the surface of his skin, and finally he couldn't keep quiet any more.

"Is it over?" Jaw tense and his lip now rather abused, Ganymede swallowed heavily. Zeus had promised Troy wouldn't be destroyed by Alcides, but this was Alcides they were talking about and war was war. He didn't want to know. He needed to know. "How, how bad is it?"

"Ganymede," Zeus said, somewhere between tight reproach and soothing gentleness in his voice as he continued, repeating his promise of a couple days ago with patience. "I would not let Troy or the royal family be utterly destroyed."

A huge, solid arm came around to wrap around Ganymede's waist, pulling him back against Zeus where he was still reclining on the couch, propped up by one elbow. Zeus closed his fingers around Ganymede's hip and stroked the fabric there, rubbing so the touch was felt down to skin, warm and firm as if there was no kilt in the way. An explosive breath left Ganymede and the tympanum's zills jangled again, sharp and restless. It wasn't like he didn't believe him, for Zeus _had_ promised. He'd just also done nothing to actually stop Alcides from taking his revenge for not getting his promised payment in getting rid of the sea monster.

"The city stands almost entirely unscathed, and the wealth my son and his fleet will leave with will mostly be material, things more easily replaced than bodies." Zeus tipped his head, sleek, dark locks sliding off his shoulder as he glanced up, but Ganymede couldn't quite yet turn his head and meet his gaze fully. "Most of Laomedon's daughters will remain in Troy, and while the two oldest sons are dead, all the younger ones are alive, and have been left in Troy. Priam is now the oldest, instead of the third-oldest, and will step up and rule."

He felt like he'd been punched, but mostly in a good way. Swaying a little with the rush of relief carried on vertigo, Ganymede slumped back against the solid, too-real weight of Zeus behind him. The arm around his waist tightened in response, somehow pulling him yet a little closer.

"... Really?" He did not mean to question, really. Zeus had promised. It was just that even when this wasn't even the best outcome, it was so much better than he'd feared. The best would have been Alcides using his surprise arrival and the military strength to threaten compliance out of Troy and shake it down for valuables with everything and everyone else left intact and unmolested, but that was of course not how it worked. Alcides would hardly be satisfied with only two divinely descended mares for the previous insult and after having gathered all those ships and men.

"Look." Zeus nodded towards the half-full kantharos of nectar standing on the little table within easy reach. Ganymede didn't really want to, but he put the drum aside anyway and reached for the cup. As soon as he had it in hand, the rose-gold shimmer of nectar clouded over into an earthly view.

Troy's divinely built walls still towered, whole and barely scratched from a couple attempts at assaulting it. There were plumes of dwindling smoke rising to the sky, but it was quickly clear those fires were all near the main gate and were mostly either well in hand or extinguished by now. Only one spot on the wall had been partially torn down. It was the one near the huge old tree where Poseidon and Apollo had started and ended building, but not replaced the old wall with stones put together with divine strength and magic thanks to Laomedon refusing to pay. That was where Telamon had broken through and entered the city, before Alcides had been able to break the Scaean gates and force his way in by the grander route.

There was signs of fire and debris scattered on some of the streets, most notably the route Telamon and his force had taken towards the main gate to help open it from the inside and along the street up towards the palace. Most of the debris looked to mostly be from desperate townspeople tossing roof tiles on the invading soldiers to halt their advance. There were no soldiers in the city, and the dead had already been cleared from the streets in preparation for burial. Ganymede, briefly tempted and the view obligingly swinging up towards the palace, quickly looked away before it got that far. He didn't need to see the bodies of Laomedon and his two dead sons to know it'd happened.

"Not ideal, of course, and I would rather fewer had died," Zeus said quietly, the frown audible in his voice even when Ganymede was staring at the polished floor and not into the cup or at Zeus' face.

Briefly, that made resentment flare up. 

Why hadn't he made sure of that, if that was what he'd wanted? Why hadn't he made sure Alcides didn't attack Troy at all, in that case? Then that feeling collapsed in on itself as Ganymede, reluctantly, considered again what his brief look had told him, what Zeus was saying, and slowly turned to look down into the kantharos again. 

Zeus wasn't helping this time, so it was a little harder to see past the depth of the nectar itself when the surface he was trying to use was this small, but soon the view cleared and he was seeing Troy again. Took in the scope of the situation suggested like he hadn't quite been able to do the first time. The city _was_ almost entirely intact, and the number of dead must be ridiculously small for what it could - should, honestly - have been. This time he dared to push his view towards the palace, and, counting the children, found it to be as Zeus had said. Only one of the daughters seemed to be missing. Pressing his lips together as his whole view turned around in a flickering heave and he ended up watching water, Achaeans, and one young woman looking as pale, but also grimly determined, as when she'd been facing what seemed like inevitable death by sea monster as a child. Never mind a surprising lack of dead among the royal family; Hesione seemed to be the only Trojan at all on any of the Achaean ships.

"... Poor Hesione," Ganymede murmured, watching her stand, tall but nearly vanishingly slim under the arm of one of Alcides' closest companions. Ganymede couldn't remember what his name was.

"She's standing in for all the ones who didn't get taken, sweet Ganymede, and she knows it. She's being very brave."

She shouldn't have to be brave. But she shouldn't have had to face sacrifice by sea monster either, if her father had just not acted as he had. She wouldn't be there, under that Achaean's arm, if her father had, again, done what he should have. Ganymede still wasn't sure how Laomedon could consider all this worth it for the upset of Tithonos being taken. Or maybe he was giving him too much credit, and even if the man, his nephew (that was strange to consider), had by all appearances been a good ruler, he might have many other failings. Had, now. A dead man couldn’t have failings. Ganymede didn't much want to think of a son of his brother being capable of being like this, but with the proof presented, what was he supposed to otherwise think?

Laomedon was dead now, though. Maybe Troy would know peace again.

" _How_ did you do this, anyway?" Now that the whole thing had had a moment to sink in, Ganymede couldn't help but notice it was very neatly done, for all that he didn't want to acknowledge that when the city had still been attacked and looted, and people were dead. It was, though. It could - should, really, really should, have been so much worse, considering how battles and sieges against cities usually went. This had been a barely two-day siege and a half day of combat, all under the pressing awareness that Dardanos was arming itself to come to its sister-city's aid.

"Ah," Zeus said, and when Ganymede looked over now, his gray eyes were warm not only from the pleasure of Ganymede's implicit forgiveness, but growing smug pleasure for his (relative) success. "I made it very clear Athena and Ares were to _work together_ this time, and that if Ares didn't hold himself in check he'd regret it. Made sure he understood that if any of his usual companions came to enjoy the din, they were to be sent away, as well."

The lack of his sons, as well as Eris and Enyo on the battlefield, and Ares further darkly aware of how close Zeus' displeasure was if he slipped had undoubtedly cut down on a lot of wilder emotions during the fighting. Ganymede nodded and now leaned a little more firmly against Zeus, less as relieved consequence of relaxing and more seeking the warmth and buoying presence of his god and lover. The light of smug pleasure in Zeus' eyes and the tilt of it around his mouth softened, and Ganymede managed a faint, tight smile, laying a hand on top of Zeus', still caressing his hip. Zeus squeezed his hip in response.

"I also sent Eirene, Nemesis and Ploutos down with them, making sure the desire for war and subjugating their enemy was cooled as soon as feasible, and as few as possible were killed afterwards. Nemesis and Ploutos assured the looting was turned onto material wealth and was fairly distributed." Zeus paused and then sighed, his thumb sliding up so he could stroke the pad of it against skin instead of fabric or the metal-decorated leather of Ganymede's belt. "I told Alcides myself last night he was to leave the city as intact as possible, and that he had to leave most of the sons alive and couldn't enslave all of the royal family left after the battle was over."

Ganymede still didn't like this. Not in the least, but with Zeus laying out the work that'd gone into making it what it'd become, it was hard to cling to the resentment that still bubbled faintly in the back of his head. He'd already been angry when he'd first found out what was happening, but left with this, Ganymede knew it could have been worse. So much worse. 

Also, though this wasn't something Ganymede was ever going to voice to Zeus, he was honestly surprised Hera hadn't involved herself in this. _That_ would have made this mess a lot more worse than even the worst natural outcome could have been, with or without other divine presence and interference.

"That's a lot of work," Ganymede said, blinking against the brief, rebellious liquid heat threatening to spill over. It still wasn't okay, but clearly Zeus had worked to make sure Troy would get out of this as lightly as possible. He'd promised, but in addition to that, Troy and its royal family _was_ one of his most favoured. Sighing, Ganymede pulled his legs up onto the couch and turned in Zeus' grip, ending up draped along Zeus' side, one arm folded under him to pillow his head on Zeus' upper arm.

"I would have done more if it had proven necessary," Zeus said and that too was a promise, as heavy and dark as the waters of the Styx.

This time, Ganymede managed a proper smile, dropping his other hand to catch the fingers of the hand wrapped around him. 

He needed to think on something else. Just for a little while, at least. And so, when Zeus met his gaze again, the light in them easing up and an eyebrow arching to nearly brush the little half-curls framing his forehead, Ganymede's smile turned innocently sweet as he slumped a little more heavily against Zeus.

"This is how you would treat me, then? Draped over me as if I were one of your sheep, soft and warm in the sunlight and perfect for taking an inadvisable nap against?"

Long gone were the days Ganymede would have feared there to be rebuke, hidden or sharply bared in words like that, that he might have taken more than what had been granted. So he only blinked, eyes wide and his mouth sweetly relaxed.

"If I ever compared you to a sheep, my lord, it would only be in the comfortable warmth of your divinity, wrapped around me as it is." He lowered his lashes, watching Zeus from under them, intent on grabbing this opportunity to turn his thoughts onto other things. "Just like your arm is, and it currently seems terribly heavy for me to easily move it."

He was thus trapped. Terribly, awfully and most forcibly trapped, to be released only at the pleasure of the king of the gods. And the Lord of Olympos didn't seem particularly inclined to move, even just that offending arm. Zeus snorted, heavy brows descending into a fierce frown even as the arm around Ganymede tightened.

"You would accuse me of aiding you to use me, the ruler of the sky and the king of the gods, to rest against as you wish?"

Pressing his lips together briefly to swallow the laughter he hadn't expected to nearly take him, Ganymede shook his head most earnestly. "I would accuse you of nothing, love, aside from lazy comfort making you unwilling to move, and I'd never insist you should if you didn't feel otherwise inclined."

"Stay here a while, then, beloved. I do find myself particularly comfortable at the moment." Zeus smiled, small and quiet compared to the vast rumbling of his voice earlier. He could just as well have reached out to cup Ganymede's face given how seeing that expression felt like a physical touch, warming Ganymede down to his bones. Not that it was a hard request to fulfil, and though Ganymede had wanted a distraction, it need not be talking, or sex, or even singing and playing music. 

Watching Zeus as he closed his eyes for a moment, a little frown still lingering between those dark, heavy brows, was just as much of a distraction as any other he could have thought of, and equally as pleasant.

Ganymede shuddered awake staring at the firm curve of Zeus' shoulder. It was so close to his face he had to blink to focus on it. Beyond that there was the silken fall of waves of dark hair. Blinking again, Ganymede was startled to realize he must have fallen asleep. Sitting upright and having to fight the arm still draped around him to do so, he groaned and rubbed his face. Looking around to see the room no different aside from that Hebe must have come back at some point and then left, leaving him to sleep but having taken her lyre with her. Smiling faintly, Ganymede looked down at Zeus.

Who was asleep.

That was... kind of unexpected, really. 

He'd thought he would be looking down to Zeus studying him, relaxed and patient, which was far more likely than finding Zeus asleep, especially in the middle of the day. 

Never really having many chances to watch Zeus while he was sleeping, Ganymede sat back, his smile widening as he saw that the frown wasn't there any more, and Zeus' face was sweetly relaxed. In sleep, the god was no less of a presence, but the weight of him lurked in the air, heavy to breathe, and under his almost glowing skin. He was soft, but not really quiescent like this, and slowly Ganymede reached out, trailing fingertips along Zeus' arm. Followed the barely hidden bulge of solid muscle under petal-soft skin, up over the broad sweep of his perfect shoulder. Down along the cut of collarbone and teasing, ever more slowly and carefully, along his throat, until Ganymede hit the first suggestion of beard along the underside of Zeus' jaw, then the curl of it as he skated up over the edge of jaw, towards his cheek. Zeus’ nose and sharp cheekbones cut faint shadows across his face, as did the thick fringe of lashes resting low.

And still Zeus was asleep.

Pausing there, leaned over Zeus, Ganymede frowned. 

It wasn't that Zeus was easily disturbed when he did sleep, but he was most definitely finely attuned to his surroundings. If they'd been in bed and Ganymede had found himself unexpectedly waking up late in the night, then he wouldn't have been surprised to find Zeus asleep and not waking immediately as soon as Ganymede stirred. Soon after, maybe, if only to see why Ganymede was awake, who slept easily and deeply and most of all long when he fell to sleep in the evening - or early morning sometimes, depending on if there was some particular feast that'd drawn long. 

The thing was that he wouldn't expect to find Zeus asleep on a couch in the middle of the day, even less so when Ganymede moving and touching him like this ought to have disturbed him. 

Zeus, though, remained still and soft, not even his chest rising and falling. That had been something Ganymede had had trouble getting used to after he began sharing a bed with Zeus. The gods did not breathe when asleep. They didn't need their breath in the same way as mortals did, he knew now, but it'd scared the living daylights out of him the first time he had noticed it. It'd taken a while, considering Ganymede's love of sleep and how little Zeus slept, but Zeus had had cruel amusement from _laughing at him_ at first! Then, of course, he'd done his best to soothe his distraught and shocked cupbearer, but that was a given.

So that Zeus was now still as if he was a statue, or carried no sweet life-breath in his body, wasn't a surprise. There was the near bell-like thunderous beat of divinity under his skin still, far more proof of Zeus being in fine order than breathing ever would indicate. Not to say the lack of breathing wasn’t at least a little unsettling even now, but he knew it wasn’t cause for worry. 

Instead, Ganymede flattened his hand out to cradle Zeus' face, the jut of a cheekbone cushioned in his palm, and still Zeus didn't stir.

"... Zeus?" Realizing he'd whispered when he had intended to speak loud enough to disturb him if he was indeed asleep, Ganymede snorted at himself. It helped push down the weird tension in his veins, knotting up his gut and nerves. "I didn't think _you'd_ be sleeping too."

Still nothing.

Fingers twitching against the soft skin of the side of Zeus' face and rubbing the bottom half of his hand against the bristly edge of the beard, Ganymede pulled his hand back. Hesitated over his shoulder, then dropped it down and shook it. Heavy, of course, and heavier in sleep, but moving Zeus' physical body was one thing. Moving his divinity was another entirely, and so Ganymede wasn't left trying to shake what could in all appearance have been a statue.

For all the effect it had, though, that's what Zeus truly seemed like, and only the prickling presence of divinity reassured him Zeus _was_ still absolutely Zeus and lying right here on the couch beside him. Biting his lip, Ganymede sat there another couple seconds, but this was just not right. Maybe Hermes would pull a prank this far to scare him by suddenly 'waking', but Zeus was not laid to such mischief unless it was Velchania.

"This is _not_ funny." His voice echoed now, raised loud enough, but there wasn't so much as a twitch or involuntary first breath drawn as Zeus woke up, for real or pretending. Staring down at that relaxed face, which had seemed sweet before, now it just twisted Ganymede's gut tight. 

Maybe nothing really was wrong, no matter what it looked like to Ganymede. Maybe this was just something that happened sometimes, and he'd never seen it before, by chance or because it happened so rarely. 

He'd just... find someone, and ask. 

Nodding to himself, Ganymede ignored the trembling thunder of his heart and the tension in his limbs as he got off the couch. 

Or, well, tried to. He had to fight for it, for where the rest of Zeus was soft and relaxed like a hunting hound collapsed in the shadow of a shading tree after a successful hunt and taking a deserved rest for it's efforts in helping its master, Zeus' arm was heavier than the rest and did not easily give him up. For a moment it gave Ganymede hope Zeus _was_ just having a strange moment of messing with him, but as he finally slid away from under the arm with a grunt and got to his feet, all that happened was a slight, disapproving twist to Zeus' eyebrows. His arm now lay on the couch, looking quite lonesome, and there wasn't so much as a twitch of movement to his muscle besides. 

That just wasn't right.

Trying to suppress his worry, since it'd be ridiculous if he'd been concerned for nothing at all, Ganymede strode over to the door with determination. Paused there as he opened it and looked around, but the room was empty aside from Zeus asleep on the couch. He looked... Zeus wasn’t small no matter by what measure one used, especially in his natural, if still human, divine form. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and even asleep he demanded attention, but at the same time he looked weirdly small, despite taking up the whole couch from head to foot. It was, somehow, different from finding Zeus tied up in the megaron, but he'd been awake and furiously fighting, then. (And also just furious.) Biting his lip, Ganymede left in search of someone, anyone, to give him answers and, hopefully, reassurance that he didn't need to worry.

Hebe would be nicest, but he'd take quite literally anyone else - even Queen Hera. She would, surely, be concerned if this _was_ something out of the ordinary, wouldn't she?

Unless...

Ganymede shoved that thought away if only because he didn't want to be accused of blaming Hera just because neither of them liked each other and she and Zeus were often arguing and displeased with each other. Better to focus on actually finding someone who wasn't a nymph or similar, a thought only strengthened when he looked out a window and found the light to be hours later than it should have been. Luck seemed to be with him, for he didn't need to go far to run into someone who should at least be able to tell him _something_.

"Lady Bia!" Ganymede sped up and then slid to a stop, almost smacking right into the tall goddess, who lightly grabbed him by the shoulder to steady him. She arched an eyebrow, narrow and sharp like the spear she wielded.

"What's this then? What need do you have of looking so distraught?" It was a little teasing, maybe, but Bia's expression was as sharp as her raised eyebrow as she looked him over, and Ganymede shook his head. 

"There's something--- It's Zeus. He won't wake up." That sounded so silly, said like that, but what else was he supposed to say? Bia straightened up, one hand suddenly holding her spear and the other, still on his shoulder, turned him around to march them down the way he'd come.

"Won't wake up, Prince Ganymede?"

"He was asleep, when I woke up," he said slowly, worrying his bottom lip again. "And while that was odd, since he usually sleeps only a little and I barely ever catch him asleep, he _stayed asleep_. And then I couldn't wake him up."

As he talked, Bia's expression turned grimmer and grimmer, and as he opened the door she strode in before him, holding him back with a hand behind her. Ganymede, unwilling to remain hovering in the doorway, still waited until Bia had swept a look around the empty room and put her spear, however reluctantly, away again before he followed her in. Her large hand, matching Zeus' in size, touched the hand laying splayed on the couch, then she touched his shoulder, temple. Frowning, she looked around again.

"What's happened? Is this... normal?"

"Normal? No." Bia shook her head, eyes narrow and her lips pressed thin where they were usually soft in her jovial mood, but she seemed less worried, now. More suspicious and angry, perhaps. "And I have a feeling it's less of what happened, as _what is happening_ , little prince."

Ganymede frowned, then looked over his shoulder though the corridor beyond the open door was of course empty, and he couldn't see anything but this room unless he had a suitable surface. The way Bia had said that, though... "What _is_ happening?"

He looked up to meet Bia's sky-blue eyes, flat and not growing any more amused as she smiled grimly and then her gaze grew distant. The moment grew longer, then she snorted and shook herself.

"Indomitable Alcides has met storms on his way home from Troy," Bia said, voice so loaded Ganymede had no need to ask for names, or details. "Storms that already have the ships half torn to pieces and well down the Luwian coast despite that such a stretch would normally take days to travel."

Definitely no need to ask.

"What do we do?"

"I think," Bia said with a sigh and another look around, but if there was anything off it was clearly impossible to say, "that you should stay here until he wakes up, which shouldn't take too long, and I will remain outside. Don't look so worried, Prince Ganymede. Father Zeus is fine, just asleep."

Bia smiled at him, and though she'd clearly been telling the truth, she was still suspicious. She kept looking around as she left the room and that told Ganymede it couldn't be a natural sleep in the least. Or at least not a sleep kept without outside influence. With nothing else to do, aside from his own circle around the room that found him absolutely nothing, was to sit back down next to Zeus and wait for him to wake up.


	3. Zeus' Anger Unleashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus wakes up, and is ~~fuck furious~~ angry. Very, very angry, though maybe not entirely for the most obvious reason. There are no distractions to be had that might stop him, and so Hera and Hypnos face the consequences.
> 
> Or, half the consequences in Hypnos' case.

Zeus woke up in sucking fits and starts. His eyes heavy and mind unmoored, there was a vertigo-inducing unsteadiness that made the wavering darkness behind his eyelids fractionally more attractive than being awake. But he hadn't gone to sleep by choice, and sleep was never this hard to wake from. It was as if sleep didn't want to let him go.

And it didn't, did it?

Eyes snapping open, Zeus surged upright, reaching with both hand and power. Hypnos escaped him, only just.

"Zeus!" Ganymede's voice was a startled background buzz, worried, which did nothing for his sense of unreality. 

How long had he been asleep? 

Too long, always too long, for anything could've happened in that time. More so when he had neither planned for nor wanted to sleep. Why he’d been made to sleep was more important than how, though. Why had Hypnos done it? On whose command? Zeus reached, first with a hand, gently clapping it down on Ganymede's shoulder to silence him and, frankly, reassure them both. He just couldn't focus on his cupbearer at the moment, even if there was a chance he might have some idea of what was going on. Zeus needed to find it out himself, no middle hands, no relaying words. In service of that he reached with his awareness next. 

His feet were on the floor, polished marble, solid and dependable. The ceiling was low, coloured comfortably cloudy, with the round piece of hammered gold in the center portraying the dancing Kouretes in high-relief. Beyond that, there was the rest of his palace and its inhabitants; sons, daughters, Titanides, nymphs... Hera?

Not where she would be expected to be, even if she’d left on a ride… how long ago? Connected to that, why had she left on a flight today, and he’d now woken up from unwilling sleep?

Eyes narrowing, Zeus flung his awareness wider, out from Olympos after touching each palace and its divinely graced owner in turn. Down. Earth. What had happened? What was the reason? What had his wife done? Nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed to have happened, but Hypnos wasn't Hermes, and not even Hermes would pull a "trick" like this on him. Something was wrong, somewhere, and he was the only one who had been put asleep. There must be a reason for that.

Not the mainland. Not Crete. Not Troy either, still reeling from Alcides' assault in his revenge for being ill-treated and robbed of his rewards by Laomedon. Zeus almost paused there to sigh, heavy with disappointment over that son of Ilus. Such a good father and ruler, and yet somehow Laomedon seemed to not be able to stand up under pressure. It was deeply disappointing, but also sad, the way the man was besmirching Troy's royal family with his behaviour. Dead now, so he wouldn’t be able to do so any longer. Priam should hopefully be a better ruler.

Zeus turned elsewhere, more tightly wound the longer this took, for there must, absolutely must, be something.

Looking south and west, towards Cyprus even if Aphrodite had been in no distress when his awareness had passed her, Zeus yanked to a pause at Kos. Stared, for one interminable yet brief moment, at the ruined fleet, the survivors fighting the inhabitants. The fleet. Alcides' fleet, and on that beach, Alcides himself. Bleeding and struggling for it. Zeus saw black.

" **HERA**!"

Olympos didn't tremble. It shook, and even if Zeus had yanked his hand up to clap it against the side of Ganymede's face to cover his ear and smack him up against his side to cover the other ear, he could still feel Ganymede flinch against him, feel the struggle of his immortal heart. The air stung even his skin, and Zeus regretfully kept himself from leaning down to kiss those shining curls before he left. Instead he just squeezed Ganymede's shoulder again and then stormed out, slamming the doors wide and almost launching himself at the very next person right outside.

It was only Bia, standing up against the opposite wall, keeping watch over her sleeping king and his worried cupbearer. Her wings now high and ruffled and her hands tight around her spear, yanked up in front of her in unneeded defence before she flushed, cleared her throat and straightened to attention.

"Stay here with him," Zeus rumbled, the noise of it thunderous even for as low as his voice was, and then he tore down the corridor. Halfway down it, he managed to gather himself enough to teleport, to remember that he could teleport.

His son first, then he would deal with Hera, and, lastly, Hypnos.

How dare she? How _could she do this to him_?

He'd tolerated her trick switch with Alcides and Eurystheus' births, he'd tolerated her driving Alcides insane, tolerated (for it was only right) the labours laid on his son in repentance for the murders committed while he was insane. But this? She not only pulled someone else in to keep him unaware, not only of her meddling once more with Alcides, leaving him struggling and facing another possible death, but of _everything_ going on. 

Anything could have happened while he was asleep, not just Hera's attempt on Alcides' life. She'd kept him unaware and unable to act, to defend himself. To defend Olympos, the sphere.

It didn't matter if he had woken up through his own power because Hypnos had been unable to keep him chained in sleep any longer or if Hypnos had finally pulled back of his own accord. The point was simply this; she'd rendered him utterly, completely, helpless (again) and unaware. Something could have happened, something that might have threatened all of them, not just his son because of Hera's anger, and he wouldn't have been prepared for it if it had.

Did she have no sense of what was proportional?

Zeus almost incinerated the whole of the population of Kos, his son included, when he came to render Alcides aid. At the last moment he caught himself, pulling back to a more tolerable form as he descended with rain and lightning. Refreshed Alcides and his surviving companions, filling their limbs with strength and energy for the fight they still had before them since he couldn’t heal Alcides himself. Pulling the aegis to himself right before he left, he draped it around Alcides' shoulders over the injured side for an additional aid to make up for his injuries and the blood lost. Athena could fetch it back when the man was done with Kos.

That done, Zeus turned back to Olympos, in search of what he'd need for Hera.

He wouldn't put a hand to her, but this he neither could nor would let pass unremarked and unpunished.

How _could she_?

He found the remains of the golden net where he'd left it and twisted it into a couple thin chains, far longer than seemed possible for the material that had been there before. Lips pressed thin and drawn into a snarl, Zeus stormed out of the room where he'd stashed the torn net and found his wife about to retreat into her rooms. He wouldn't let her. He could break into them, yes, but it would take time and effort, and, even as angry as he was, that was her sanctuary. He would not violate it if she refused him entry.

But not violating it didn't mean he couldn't stop her before she got inside and locked the doors behind her.

"Hera!" Zeus bellowed as he lunged across the peristyle, the wind carrying him. The look she threw over her shoulder was narrowed and tight, but there was no regret on her face. Fine. He slammed into the door and shoved his arm into the closing gap, finding a grip around her arm and yanked her out. Found a grip on both her wrists despite her struggling, and Hera's lovely, light brown eyes turned dark like a yellow-tinted storm.

"Let _go of me_!" Hera hissed and shoved at him, body and power both. Zeus ignored it as he turned down the corridor, steps eating the floor as he dragged her along. "Your cursed son is still alive, you saved him yourself!"

That was what she thought where the sticking point was? Zeus’ power and essence rose in response, and he had to fight both back down.

To be fair, that would have been his greatest complaint had she not put him to sleep, but she had. Zeus shook his head, too angry to speak of the reason, of the sense of betrayal. A sense of betrayal as vast as when she'd conspired with the others. Yet it might be deeper this time if he allowed himself to admit to it, for at least then he'd been aware. He'd been, bar her diligence, not long from freeing himself throughout all that day and night. This time, he hadn't had that. 

And this time, there was no Themis to redirect him to where she'd sent Ganymede, and Ganymede himself was safe, as was Alcides. There was nothing to stop him from dealing with Hera. 

Hypnos was of a lesser concern than Hera was, so that wasn't enough to tempt him to leave Hera to last.

Behind him, Hera was a storm pressing down against him, though with no real violence aside from a headache blooming between his temples from the weight of her. She was offended and angry, yes, but as little as he wished to harm her, even as angry as he was, as little did she wish to do the same, no matter what she'd earlier done to him and the indignity he was visiting on her. She would be even less pleased when she realized the extent of it, but Zeus didn't care. Let her see how little it would amuse her to be unable to move! Not that she was making it easy for him, almost rising up into pure energy as she was, resisting with both physical body and her essence. 

He could remove one of those out of the equation, at least.

So with a grinding tension of his teeth, which did nothing for the headache that was now as physical as it was metaphysical, Zeus twisted around and heaved Hera up, lifting her to lie over both of his shoulders so he could keep his grip on her wrists and trap her legs against his body. The noise out of her, high and in the back of her throat, would have been amusing in any other situation. At present, it caused nothing but a snarl to peel Zeus' lips away from his teeth.

"Zeus! How dare you! I am no less than you, as your wife and sister, and the oldest among the daughters born of Kronos and Rhea, and you treat me like this? Put me down!"

How dare he?

"How _dare I_?" Zeus could hear tension in his voice that was dreadfully revealing, enough so that Hera actually paused, suspending her whole being for a second and making her lighter than down to carry. "How _could you_?"

She twitched, and in the corner of his eye Zeus saw Hera’s darkly furious eyes widen, then narrow.

That’d been too revealing when he was so very angry and she had been the one to cause it, so he sped up, bouncing her a little to silence her. She let out another offended noise, but he was as little amused by it this time as he’d been by the first. 

Zeus strode out onto the wild cliff garden to the right of Hera's balcony and bound her with the chains in the same movement as he set her back on the ground. He yanked on the chains and Hera yanked back, both of them staggering over the ground and the air thick and trembling with their power. Again, in another situation it might have been amusing, might have been playful. Since neither of them liked to be the one tied up there was little chance it would ever have happened other than as this, other than as when she'd caught him in the net this had once been.

"If you are no less than I, you, Queen of Olympos and the many stars in the sky, can take this like I have had to," he hissed, and was not set to any kinder mind when she flushed. Because she blushed from rage, not understanding or even embarrassment, either which might have mollified him somewhat and set him to hesitating. She drew up against his pull on the chains, opening her mouth. He didn't let her. "More than once, by now, by net and now forced sleep. _Sleep_ , Hera---!"

His voice didn't crack, and his chest didn't heave with fury, but it was a near thing. At least breaking off had him not saying anything about the vulnerable core of his emotions. He couldn’t have stood it if he had. Perhaps pointing out to her that he might not have been able to act in time if something had happened would’ve made her understand, but Zeus was unable to find the words. If something had happened, he did no trust that the circumstances, relying on other people as they did, would've had him on his feet and ready quickly enough.

"Zeu--!"

"You can stay here until I'm done," Zeus growled, then drew up and raised his voice, power turning it louder, carried it far further than any shout would otherwise have been able to. "Anyone who helps Hera down until I _let her down myself_ , will find themselves deeply regretting it. Leave her where she is---"

He broke off, distracted by the flare of approaching power. 

A shift in the air, a threatening storm about to be unleashed. Saw it, too, by the flash of rich, light brown as Hera's eyes flew wide, looking over his shoulder. 

Zeus tossed the chains, up, out, and whirled around while Hera gasped as she flew off the cliff’s edge. Zeus met another pair of golden brown eyes, these narrowed in anger that wasn't the least bit comparable to Hera's fury before the chains had dragged her off, but it was similar enough Zeus saw black again, completely aside from the presumption of this reaction. He'd _just_ explicitly said no one should dare to take her down before he did and here there was immediately a challenge to that.

" _You_."

He didn't let Hephaistos touch him, for, as surprisingly quick as Hephaistos could be despite his twisted legs and using power to aid him, Zeus was yet quicker. He met Hephaistos in the middle of his charge, clutched him by the throat, swung around and tossed him. There wasn't even any real thought behind it, just a fresh well of anger for the challenge, for the presumption that he might hurt Hera in any way she hadn't already hurt him right now. He didn’t even pay attention to how hard or how far he tossed Hephaistos. 

All of that could be dealt with later.

"I'll be back for you later," Zeus snapped as he looked up at his wife where she now hung, and the light around Hera turned sharp, then shattered.

" _Zeus_!" she shouted, the sound of it tearing the air, but she could do nothing but hang where she was, and Zeus ignored her. She could deal like he’d had to.

Flinging his awareness out, Zeus found a sliver of the essence he was looking for and threw himself after it. Feathers surrounded him and let Zeus work his fury into the air, sizzling around him as he winged his way from Olympos. Not to Lemnos - Hypnos would not be so careless - but rather the hills around Mount Othrys. It was clever, especially so since the lingering core of slowly dissipating power attached to Mount Othrys would lend additional protection. It just wouldn’t be enough.

If Zeus hadn't known who he was looking for, he wouldn't have been able to find Hypnos' presence in the swirl of earthly and divine energies around the former Titan stronghold. Hypnos was the only one who could have been able to do this, in this manner, and so it was obvious who it had to be.

Even with all that, even knowing it _was_ Hypnos he was looking for, he might have missed the bird tucked so neatly in under the branches of a fir, close to its trunk. He knew, though, and nothing would stop him. He also did not care for the branches whipping him as he tore through them, claws extended. 

Zeus' high, shrill cry rent the air, and the owl, whistling sharply in distress, narrowly avoided those bronzed claws. Branches broke around them as they fought to get free of the tree and Zeus further fought to get close to Hypnos, fury darkening his eyes even as an eagle. They finally broke free, and their wings clawed the air while they wheeled about the treetops like skilled charioteers turning their horses around the turning point with the narrowest of margins.

The wind rose, the firs creaking in protest as the eagle and owl flew higher up along the earthly Othrys' cliffs.

"My lord Zeus! I was only acting on---!" Hypnos' shout turned into a startled, owly cry as he tried to avoid crashing right into a fir or getting tangled among the branches while swerving away from Zeus. He sort of bounced off, pine needles rustling and scattering in his wake. His spill saved him from Zeus' claws, the furious eagle attempting to use the incident to its own ends. "Acting on Queen Hera's request!"

"And yet you didn't think to approach me and ask?" It was less of a growl or snarl and more an echo of thunder, followed by an eagle's challenging cry right after. " _Hours_ , and anything could have happened during! My son nearly _died_!"

That last word broke apart into shrill eagle noises, the meaning of it carried more in the eagle's black gaze and the growling clouds above than any intentional words. Hypnos, poor, distraught Hypnos, understood that no matter what he might choose to say, it wouldn't be enough. Not right now. Better to just try to avoid the eagle's sharp claws and beak.

Zeus missed Hypnos just barely several times as he dove, whipped him in passing with a wing once while still missing, but he came closer every time. Neither Zeus nor Hypnos would tire, but Zeus was relentless and his power greater. Hypnos wouldn't be able to save himself.

The youthful god had known that, but he’d hoped his chosen hiding spot would’ve given him some advantage. Clearly not. Delicate bird chest trembling, Hypnos finally flung himself down towards the rocks, towards a deeper crack. The eagle screamed and followed, wings tucked close - and then swerved away, floundering in the air as darkness exploded out of the rocky cleft, closing about Hypnos just as he shed his feathers, exchanging two wings for four, all of them ruffled and beating in a desperate, distressed flurry about him.

"That's _enough_!" 

The very rocks moaned from the pitch of Nyx’s voice, and the sky around Mount Othrys shaded into twilight, then night, denying Helios' light to reach the ground. Zeus shed his feathers and landed on the ground. Lightning sparked around his head and his eyes were black as the darkness around them as he stood, silent, while Nyx took partial shape. She was a woman dressed in mist and shadows, her hair bleeding out into the untimely night her very presence caused. There were stars in her eyes, but they were cold.

"Your son has gone too far, Lady Nyx," Zeus snarled, but he didn’t try to advance on her and the son shielded within, and he didn't draw any further power to himself. They stared at each other, elder, near-primordial goddess and the ruler of one third of the sphere, the king of the gods, gazes weighted enough the earthly air and ground quivered around them.

Zeus knew it wouldn't be worth it to fight with her, and that it would cost him dearly if he tried. He refused to back off immediately, however. His own anger and the insult dealt to him demanded more than that. What _truly_ kept him in place was the wounded vulnerability he'd been forced into. That, and nothing else, had Zeus remaining instead of turning for the goddess' protective anger. He wouldn't admit to that out loud even if that was the one thing which might have granted him some leave from Nyx, if not freedom to punish her son however he wished.

"And you have already shown what you think of his ill-advised recklessness, Father Zeus," Nyx said coolly, the shadows of her body and dress darkening further as she spoke. The flowing fabric now showed burning pinpricks of light along the hem, like embroidery. She seemed too real, a shadow superimposed against other shadows, unsuitable for the earthly surroundings she'd been drawn into. "He will not do the like again."

A pause as they stared at each other, then both looked down.

"Will you, child?" Nyx asked, her voice somehow both wryly amused and darkly unimpressed. Within her petal-soft darkness, enfolding her son so deeply there wasn't a glimmer of Hypnos to be seen either by eye or divine presence, there came a rustle of fluttering wings.

"No, Mother."

Nyx looked back up, her star-studded eyes still burning with warning and swept a pointed hand out between her and the Lord of Olympos. "As you see. Satisfy yourself with this, Father Zeus. I will not have my son further terrorized."

He didn't wish to give in so easily.

Again, what might have allowed Zeus something more from Nyx were things he wasn't willing to bare, and he most certainly wasn’t going to fight her to get to Hypnos. So in the end all Zeus did was to press his lips together, turn, and teleport back to Olympos.

Such expense of power at least settled him a little more, though he was still tense from head to foot as he strode up the stairs to the palace's gate. His nails were digging deep into otherwise flawless palms, too soft to stand the biting edge and his teeth ground hard into each other. He might have broken his own knuckles for the pressure he was putting on them, and Zeus stopped at the top of the stairs, took a breath and forcibly exhaled it.

Closed his eyes. 

Above Olympos, the skies turned black. They were lit by light of eldritch green before the lightning wiped all colour out, flickering between the clouds several times before Zeus let it go. It started to rain, but the quick burst of heavy rainfall soon lightened into a warm drizzle.

Zeus looked up to see Apollo standing in the huge gateway, Bia behind him and Ganymede lurking between them. Sighing, Zeus dragged a hand down his face.

"Apollo. Make sure Alcides survives his injuries, then get Dionysos and go find Hephaistos. Do what you can for him if he needs it."

Zeus ignored Apollo’s stiff grimace for being told to go heal Alcides, but it was nothing next to his son’s following surprise. It was brief, but sharp. Zeus didn't feel like contemplating whether it was so very strange that he'd tell Apollo to go heal Hephaistos if it turned out to be necessary. He was still angry Hephaistos had tried to attack him, but leaving a child of Hera's - if not his own - to suffer for longer than necessary sat ill with him.

"Of course, Father," Apollo said, nodding easily and with no particular inflection to his voice. He also didn’t hesitate to walk past Zeus, though he paused there just briefly. Touched light fingertips to his father’s shoulder and arched his eyebrows. Zeus smiled, crooked and tight, and shook his head. Still, the light touch had done much to lighten Zeus' steps as he strode forward and held an arm out. Ganymede slid in next to him with no seeming worry, and something unwound, just a little. The rest of it would linger, he knew, but there was not much to do about that. Not until both he and Hera had put this behind them.

"Your conduct has been exemplary as always, Bia," Zeus said and she grinned, straightening up and pretending like she hadn't been eyeing him up and down just a moment before, and thumped a fist to her chest.

"Always, Father Zeus." With a jaunty salute that hid any possible relief, Bia turned and disappeared in the shadows that crowded the arches of the propylaia. Zeus, meanwhile, looked down into intent, endlessly green eyes.

"It's over, then?" Ganymede asked, the hand hooked into the back of Zeus’ belt tightening its grip, and Zeus closed a hand tight around a small, firm shoulder and squeezed.

"For now, yes. Go wait for me in my rooms, but go talk to Hebe before you do."

Ganymede's exhaled breath could be felt through his whole body as he nodded and untangled himself. He did leave and promptly so, but there was a glance over his shoulder before that - Zeus couldn't say he minded it. Would in fact have missed it had it not happened. 

Now...

Zeus came back to that patch of cliff garden two hours after he'd thrown Hera out to hang by the chains and turned his face up to stare at his wife.

The glittering gold of the chains, seemingly so very delicate - he knew their impossible strength and confining weight himself - disappeared into the blue far above, inexplicably holding Hera aloft. She refused to meet his gaze, still damp from the earlier rain, and Zeus hardly cared. After a moment, he rose up in the air, up above Hera, and gathered the chains in one hand. Jerked on them and felt them unhook from their ethereal latch, which had merely been Zeus deciding they should stick there, and lowered first Hera and then himself to the ground. 

She shook the chains off and stood there, quiet and pinch-lipped while Zeus raised a hand and destroyed the last traces of the physical metal and divine power that had been imbued in the former net Hephaistos had made to trap his errant wife and her long-time lover. Zeus looked up from the evaporating veils of metallic-scented power and crossed his arms, matching Hera as they glared at each other.

Finally, after several long, crawling moments, Hera turned, head and chin held high, and strode back into the palace. The doors to her rooms slamming shut echoed far and wide beyond the palace's royal apartments.


End file.
